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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720450">Murmurs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAFishAKA/pseuds/AKAFishAKA'>AKAFishAKA</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Linked Relations [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, linked universe- fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Four weeks of Four bby!, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Panic Attacks, descriptions of injuries, making the squished parts easier to read, no Four/Dot they are gay lesbian solidarity and you can fight me on this one, no blood though, second chapter added for accessibility, there's a little Four/Shadow but it's only implied they don't actually talk, u can tell what tags i forgot and had to add on lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAFishAKA/pseuds/AKAFishAKA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’d rather die than lose a friend,” Link would say, and anyone could tell it meant so much more than just that.</p><p>A look at Four's life for Four weeks of Four!</p><p>EDIT: Second chapter added for accessibility. If you're having trouble reading the parts from Four's POV, they've been reformatted in the second chapter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Four &amp; Dot (Linked Universe)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Linked Relations [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Four-centric fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If King Daltus of Hyrule had known he was sending a child to save the world, he would never have done so. If he knew how dangerous his request was going to be, he would not have executed it in the way he did. While he had to send a child due to the nature of the task, he was readily prepared to send his best soldiers to protect the child from enemies, fight the most dangerous threats the kingdom had faced since its founding. But the King knew none of that. He thought the kingdom was free from monsters, thought the job consisted simply of asking for a sword to be fixed and bringing it back, thought the threat would be fixed simply by the forging.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the King could have learned of his mistake and corrected it, he was already possessed; by the time he was freed, the damage had already been done. He would spend the rest of his life trying to amend for his error. When the kid’s grandfather mentioned anything they were lacking, it would mysteriously show up on their doorstep. An odd sale in Castle Town would enable the purchase of a new retirement house for the grandfather when the need arose. The boy’s medical bills would always seem to get lost in the mail. The King would provide anything if the boy had asked, though all the kid would seem to ask for was time with his daughter. You’re cute together, the King would tell his daughter, to which she would frown and stick her tongue out before running off with the boy again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The King would never think it was enough. He would never learn exactly what had happened, but he would know that whatever it was, it was enough to shatter the boy into what he was today. Eleven was too young, he believed, too young to be broken.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the King didn't know these things. The only thing he actually knew was that his daughter was stone and that the only one who had the ability to fix it, the only one whom he trusted to fix it, was his daughter’s best friend and his own best friend’s grandson. So he asked Link to venture to the forest to find the Picori, and everything else followed after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s... not his fault,” Link would say, if asked. “Twas for Dot. And I volunteered. I would never take it back.” His eyes would dim, cloud over, shift around; his teeth would clench; his head shake (to clear it? Of what?). “I’d rather die than lose a friend,” he’d say, and anyone could tell it meant so much more than just that.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell was getting used to the small movements in his shop. It had always been around, he realized, but it had gotten more noticeable after the festival. The shop has been oddly bare of any type of dust or dirt despite the large amount of traffic he got. His products remained shiny and new despite sitting untouched on the shelves for countless hours. The backroom was perfectly organized, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>organized than he’d had originally done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell wouldn’t say he was stupid, he ran a successful business after all. He wouldn’t say he was particularly street smart either, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> savvy enough to realize that something strange was going on. So he continued to leave out apples every night, cut into small cubes, for whatever benevolent deity had blessed his shop with cleanliness, and kept running his business as usual. It was the least he could do, and the apples were gone each morning, so he must be doing something right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was getting a bit nervous, though. The King’s behavior had changed drastically about a week and a half ago. The castle was closed to the public (unheard of), the knights were searching for some ‘Light Force’ (Stockwell wasn’t convinced that was real), the Princess hadn’t been seen since the festival (she normally snuck out on the daily), and her best friend? He’d gotten a new hat and a determination Stockwell had hardly seen in anyone else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link had stopped by a few times before the changes with the Princess (in disguise, of course) just to buy the pretty blue seashells that served an official purpose as currency for the figurine shop across town. But now, after the changes, Link stopped by the shop daily, picking up supplies he shouldn’t have had the money for and that Stockwell really shouldn’t have let him have. He’s picked up bombs, a new wallet, an extra shield, and even the boomerang that had been kept spotless in the backroom. Link entered the shop every day at the same time, looked around, bought something, and left. He was his best customer. Stockwell didn’t like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to do something, but he didn’t know what. He wasn’t ever a ‘kids’ person, or a real people person either; there’s a reason he lives alone out of town with his dog Fifi. But this wasn't right, even he knew that. The shy, curious Link whom the Princess dragged along on her adventures and who loved to update everyone on his slow-growing figurine collection wouldn’t come in daily to buy weapons unless something was horribly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>utterly </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong. The town was wrong, the King was wrong, little Link was wrong, and Stockwell had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no clue what to do about it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what Stockwell was thinking while mindlessly cubing the nightly apple at about 2:22 pm, the exact earliest Link had arrived at the store. There had to be something he could do. He basically had a monopoly on arrows and bombs, maybe he could bargain for information from the guards? When they stopped in they seemed as confused as he was-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a shifting from behind him. That was odd. The shifting normally occurred to his left. Stockwell turned around in his seat. “Hello? Is anyone back there?” Nothing moved. Honestly, something about it seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>too still</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Ah… Well, I guess not. How odd.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned back around, but stayed alert. He couldn’t have anything happen to his shop. The world around him may be all wrong but he’d be damned if something happened to his shop and the little cleaning deities living in it. Soon enough, he heard a soft scratching-like sound and whirled back around to see, lo and behold, a person! In </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> shop! Taking </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>things!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Egad! I knew there was someone back here! When did- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Link</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> Link, holding his bottle of dog food, looking quite like a keese in a cuccoo’s sightline. “Link, how did you find your way back here? This area is for employees only, that is, me and me alone, Link, you know that!” He shook his head. “This isn’t like you, Link. I never pegged you as someone who would steal anything. Why would you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link was starting to cry. Stockwell stopped talking and actually looked at the lad. His hands were clutching the bottle like a lifeline, veins visible on their backsides. The bird head of his hat was betraying his almost unnoticeable shuddering, otherwise hidden by his widened stance. There’s a cut on his forehead. He was doused in sweat, his skin red (matching his sword; it looked different from the last time he was here), and his breaths came quickly, much too quickly. What really worried Stockwell, though, was although Link had every appearance of someone sobbing their heart out, there were no tears. Link’s face remained bone dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Link, um, have you had any water recently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinked hard, and spoke, much too faintly. “’m sorry, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Water. Have you had any water?” Link’s grip tightened on the bottle. So no. “Link, why don’t we sit and have lunc-” Link lurched forward. Stockwell swore, grabbed him, and lowered him to the ground. He was steaming. “Ok, don’t repeat that… let me get you some water and some ice and… golly… I’m going to close the shop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The setup was messy and hopefully sufficient for now. Link’s feet sat in a shallow bin of water, his tunic pulled off and set to dry. The fan from the backroom (spotless, like everything) blew a soft breeze over the kid. The towel-wrapped icepack was held over the bandaged cut by his headband, and his hands were occupied by the sliced-up watermelon Stockwell had grabbed from the market. He settled down on the floor next to Link with his makeshift water bottle (an old gallon milk carton with straw through the cap). The floor was spotless. Thank you cleaning deities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok Link, you’re going to drink some of this between each bite, ok? I don’t want you throwing up on my clean floor, now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link nodded and took a sip. They sat in silence for a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got you some rice too, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no response. Link was chewing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll just put it here then.” Stockwell placed the rice down. “So, um, I’m sorry, my good lad, but that bottle is not for sale, it contains food for my dear little dog, Fifi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link nodded, and took a sip of water. He pressed a hand to his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell sighed. “Laddie, I don’t know much about medicine, but you’re hurt pretty bad. Where were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Top cave.” Link took some of the rice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That answered nothing. “Ok, lad, you gotta not do that again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nomkay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell was convinced the kid had a concussion. “Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do, Link. I’m gonna get your grandfather and you’re going to take a break while you recover-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Link’s staring at him with determination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Link, I’m worried. You’re buying weapons made for knights. You have to take a break.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“’m saving Dottie. She’s ‘n a lot of stone and she’s so danger, I have to scare her.” Stockwell blinked, because that wasn’t anything, and he’d never heard Link mess up that badly. He hoped it was the dehydration and fever talking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link must have realized how bad that sentence was, because he’d abandoned his food and water and was holding his head in his hands. When he looked up, he was actually crying. “She’s my friend. I can’t sav- I have to lea- ’m HELPING. I have to. I-” He breaks off in tears. Stockwell took a deep breath. He did say he wanted to help. Guess this is how he was doing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell gently pulled the boy into his arms. The lad hiccuped against his shoulder. “Now listen. You’re not gonna save the Princess while you’re dizzy and tired and thirsty. I’d suggest resting for at least three days, so you can set out fully healthy. Do you hear me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yess’r,” Link sniffled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to call me sir. I’m going to take you home now, Link. Ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Stockwell got to Link’s house with his stuff, the kid was asleep on his shoulder. He passed everything off to the kid’s grandfather, including the bottle (along with an open invitation to visit his dog and give him the treats any time), walked back into town, and for the first time in ages, took the day off. He instead went to the library, picking up certain books for important research.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Stockwell’s store became the first health and wellness store in Castle Town. No customer went out without leaving with a snack and a sports drink (something about electrolytes being important, the books had said). Some noticed that the prices tended to be lower for a certain small viridian-clad child, but no one dared call him out on it. He held the monopoly on bombs and arrows, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stockwell wouldn’t say he was stupid, he ran a </span>
  <strike>
    <span>slightly less successful due to all the free snacks</span>
  </strike>
  <span> successful business after all. He wouldn’t say he was particularly street smart either </span>
  <strike>
    <span>though some now would argue he was</span>
  </strike>
  <span>, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> savvy enough to realize that there was no one who was going to be able to stop Link now. He did what he could to keep him healthy. It’s all he could do.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Link enters the Elemental Sanctuary and prays, </span>
  <b>prays</b>
  <span>, that this fixes him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s been a nightmare. His only friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>poorDottieImissherIt’smyfault </span>
  </em>
  <span>was stone. The people in town were scared. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiredreadyscared</span>
  </em>
  <span> so close now to being done. He had everything, from powerful dungeon items </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ilikethelampthecaneisthebestthejarhassomanyuses </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the elements he was searching for. He has the final one. It gleams a brilliant, shining </span>
  <em>
    <span>redpurpleblue </span>
  </em>
  <span>green, round and smooth like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>waterfireearth</span>
  </em>
  <span> wind. It’s the final upgrade before his sword will gain the power of the legends and will let him save Dot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other three elements </span>
  <em>
    <span>teardropspointedround</span>
  </em>
  <span> remain on their pedestals from the previous times he’s been here. There’s (somehow) no doubt in his mind as he steps back up to the pedestal for the final time. This </span>
  <b>will </b>
  <span>save Dot. There’s nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvioulyofcoursecertainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>that will stop him from saving her. Not Vaati’s monsters, not the maze-like dungeons, not even the-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>HurryupIhavetodothissheaththeswordandgetitoverwith</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It never stops. These… is it his thoughts? His inner monologue? </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybeitdidn’thappenbeforetheswordwhatelsecoulditbe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s stopped caring. He can’t think, every time he tries </span>
  <em>
    <span>IinterruptIspeakthishappens </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s so much, it's almost too much, the murmurs running through his head never stop and he can hardly speak and he just wanted to save Dot </span>
  <em>
    <span>whyisthishappeningtome</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link pushes the voices aside again </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ican’tI’dstopifIcouldcanIshutuppleaseI’mbegging </span>
  </em>
  <span>and draws his sword, now a cool blue </span>
  <em>
    <span>thebestcolor </span>
  </em>
  <span>changed from its previous red</span>
  <em>
    <span> Ilikedtheredversion better </span>
  </em>
  <span>since the elements changed its appearance</span>
  <em>
    <span> itcouldstillbeimproved</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He has to focus on the present, on what's around </span>
  <em>
    <span>bluewallsraisedfloorfourstatues</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, ground himself here so the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thoughtswordsmurmurs </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t bleed into his actions. That’s how the town knows. Mr. Stockwell only started giving him bananas until after the murmurs started </span>
  <em>
    <span>IstillhaveitIdon’tlikebananaswhatnoIlovebananas</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>readystrongenoughokay </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid. They know something is wrong, though they probably think it’s just stress and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>voicesthoughtsIdon’tevenknowwhatthisis really</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s walking a tightrope, hanging on by just a single string in the form of Dot, and he’s going to save her </span>
  <em>
    <span>nomatterhowmuchittakesawayfromme</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link slams the sword into the pedestal. The wind element flew to its place on the final column. The elements started to glow, and shot beams of light into the sword. When it stopped, the sword continued to glow. Link took a deep breath in, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thisisforDot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and drew it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light of the completed Four Sword flows through him, and for a moment, everything is pain, everything is white. Link thinks he screams. Then everything stops. The room clears. It’s silent. </span>
  <b>Yes</b>
  <span>. For a moment, it’s truly, </span>
  <b>blissfully </b>
  <span>silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the murmurs start again. And it’s so, </span>
  <b>so </b>
  <span>much worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diditstopit’squietmaybeIcansleepagainwaitwhat’shappeningwhereamInocanIbequiet? nonotagainIdon’tlikethisit’sworseit’ssomuchworsenowIhatethisthisisn’tgoodmakeitstopplease</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>shutupIthoughtIwasfreeIcan’tstopbythegoddesseswhycan’tIstopIwanttostopshutupIcan’ttakeit.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>isthishowitendsIdon’twanttodothisanymoreDottie’swaitingIhavetoisthishowitstaysforever? Idon’t wantthatWedon’twantthatHedoesn’twantthatTheyreallydon’twantthatsopleasesomeonefixusmehimthemalready!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>They thinks it’s so much worse than before. Link don’t know what to do. He </span><em><span>notheyuswemeourwhatisrightIdon’tknowanymore</span></em><span> wants them to shut up. Or is it </span><em><span>he </span></em><span>wants </span><em><span>me</span></em><span>? </span><em><span>I</span></em><span> want </span><em><span>me</span></em><span>? </span><em><span>They </span></em><span>want </span><em><span>you</span></em><span>? </span><em><span>Whatisgoingon</span></em><span>? Link must haves </span><em><span>nodoweImustIwantone </span></em><span>a</span> <span>sense of self; it’s now </span><em><span>fadingshiftingchangingmoving </span></em><span>but it’s still </span><em><span>minetheirsoursyourshis</span></em><span>, isn’t it? It can’t take them from us, can it? Is it? How do </span><em><span>weIus</span></em><span> talk now, with words </span><em><span>bubblingblowingburningbeingburied </span></em><span>every time </span><em><span>hisourmytheir </span></em><span>mouth opens? He have to figure it out, and soon, the world’s in trouble </span><em><span>wehavetosaveDotI’mnotleavingherforanylongerthisisallhecaresaboutthat’stheirgoalafterall</span></em><span>, but these voices in </span><em><span>our </span></em><span>head </span><em><span>can’twon’tmustn’tbegsto </span></em><span>stop and it’s all he can do to stay upright with them </span><em><span>jabberingtalkingthinkingexisting</span></em><span> in their brain and he wants it to stop </span><em><span>they’rewe’rehe’sI’m </span></em><span>begging, please-</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Link? Link, squirt, can you hear me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link hear him and lose </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>balance, stumbling around and swinging </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>sword in the process. A spinning circle of light </span>
  <em>
    <span>prettythat’sdifferentIlikeitwonderwhatitdoes </span>
  </em>
  <span>flies from </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>blade and hits the stone placard which dissipates before </span>
  <em>
    <span>hismytheirour</span>
  </em>
  <span> very eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm-hmm… It seems that forging the sacred blade somehow opened the doorway!” Link </span>
  <em>
    <span>wellduhwefiguredthatoutIthinkitwasthelightcircleElzotheygetit </span>
  </em>
  <span>nods. “It must lead to the room that holds the secret of the light force! Link,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’smethat’shimthat’themthat’sus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “we must go inside!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link go</span>
  <em>
    <span> nothat’swrongrightisitnoit’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>goes into the room. The next few minutes are a blur. There’s stained glass </span>
  <em>
    <span>oohcolorfulthatlookslikeusitsuredoesisthatDottie </span>
  </em>
  <span>that shows the legends </span>
  <em>
    <span>weknowthosehasheseenthisbeforethisisnewwhy’sDottherethistime</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the light force is </span>
  <em>
    <span>waitnothisisbadwhydidn’tithelphershe’sinsomuchmoredangernow </span>
  </em>
  <span>hidden in Dot. The king’s here now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’snottheKinghe’spossesedorishestonewhateverwhoisthis</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s not him it’s Vaati </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iknewitwehavetostophimhe’sdoingsomethinghiscapeisverycoolthough </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>nomenousnothem </span>
  </em>
  <span>can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurryupwehavetogohe’sattackinggoleftrightjumpback </span>
  </em>
  <b>move</b>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elzo wakes Link up. “Link, wake up! Can’t you wake up, Link?” He don’t wanna. They’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiredexhaustedwornoutdone</span>
  </em>
  <span>; his thoughts are </span>
  <em>
    <span>splinteredfragmentedshatteredbroken</span>
  </em>
  <span>; their head hurts like he got hit by </span>
  <em>
    <span>GleeokMazaalBigOctoGyorg</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ezlo’s talking </span>
  <em>
    <span>shutuppayattentionthis isimportantit’saboutDottie </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Link pulls himself back into the conversation just in time to hear, “If he succeeds, we may never be able to return the Princess to normal!” Link gasps </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iwillneverletthathappen! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ezlo continues. “We’ve wasted too much time, Link,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’sright</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “we must stop Vaati!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <span>Ezlo always gets straight to the point, and he’s right, Link has to </span>
  <em>
    <span>savethekingdomstopthemonstersdefeatVaatirescueDottie </span>
  </em>
  <span>do this. So in a show of fake strength that will last as long as it needs to, Link </span>
  <em>
    <span>sobsinternallypusheshimslelftoofardesperatelykeepstryingacceptsthathisishowhislifewillbe </span>
  </em>
  <span>stands up straight and walks forward.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The threads of the Mage’s Cap disintegrate in Ezlo’s hands. Princess Zelda had used it marvelously. The twisted, darkened version of Hyrule Castle now shined like he’d seen it from atop Link’s head when he had wandered through on his journey. The feeling in the air was vivacious, fresh, and he (with all his magical prowess) could tell that every problem that had still cursed the land had disappeared. This was how he’d meant the Mage’s Cap’s power to be used. The malicious intentions of his previous protege did not represent his desires, but it did represent the folly of creating an all-powerful wish granting tool. This was a mistake he would not repeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ezlo looks up at the Princess and his Link. The kids (for they are just children, truly, as proven by their relationship with the Minish) clutch each other as if they are the other's lifeline. They’ve been in contact from the moment they reunited, letting go only when forced (he would never forget the fear in Link’s eyes when he was teleported away from her and back into Vaati's twisted portal world for a final showdown). The young Princess, even before her use of the Cap, had impressed him: when her Castle started falling apart, she grabbed Link by the hand and led the way to the Palace’s entrance, having barely been flesh and blood for a minute. That took guts, a chutzpah he certainly would never have. The two made quite the pair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The hat is falling apart,” he explains. “The Mage’s Cap has the power to turn the thoughts of its wearer into reality. Vaati’s heart was filled with evil, and that was reflected in what he became. But it seems that a pure heart, combined with the hat’s power, can create a miracle!” Ezlo smiles at the children. “Either of your hearts would have done it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Princess Zelda smiles shyly at him (she’d watched all of Link’s journey despite, perhaps due to, the curse placed upon her, but she still hasn't actually met him), while Link pulls in closer to her and says, “T’was Dot. She did it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, bashful. Link was truly a great kid. “It couldn't have been done without you, Link.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Inky, it’s ok,” the Princess chirped softly, pulling him closer. “I’m here, you did it, it’s over. What do you need, how can I help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link pulled her closer, murmuring something. Ezlo watched. He was happy now. Wasn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there’s a rumbling behind him, and he turns to see the doorway start to fade. He turns back to the two surprised youths. “The Minish Door opens but once every century, and soon, it must close. Ezlo sighs. “I must leave you both now and return to my homeland.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link gasps and rushes up to Ezlo, dragging Princess Zelda with him. He reaches out to Ezlo, not saying anything, but his meaning clear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes are heartbroken, but there's something else too, something soul-deep and cutting. Ezlo knows Link’s not the same person anymore. He noticed the changes around Castor Wilds, how Link would talk less, how his hands would shake, how he’d not notice things he’d have noticed before. He’d attributed it to the heat stroke (he hadn’t realized that the second dungeon would be in a literal volcano), but now, seeing his eyes, he wasn't sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know I’ve caused you much suffering, young one,” is what Ezlo finally decides to say, as it is the truth, as much as he hates it. Elzo looks at Link again, and smiles. “Well, Link, my journey with you was exciting, to say the least. In fact, I’m more than just a little sad that we must now part ways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hates to leave his kid alone. He got put into a horrible situation, just horrendous, and stood up to face it. He’d gone out of his way to help townsfolk, Minish, even Winds Tribesmen without batting an eye. No challenge seemed too great for the tiny kid. He’s faced threats Ezlo, in all his age and wisdom, hadn’t even dreamed of, and came out on top. He’d won, but at what cost? Ezlo didn’t quite know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please accept this…” Ezlo says, and his boy starts, jolting backwards where the Princess caught him. A quick spell had created the charm dangling from the hat, itself already sewn and waiting in Ezlo’s workshop. Link caught the hat with no troubles, looking at it with eyes swimming turbidly with emotion. “You know,” Ezlo says to pull Link at least temporarily out of whatever’s going on in his head, “I’ve never actually seen you wearing a cap until now.” Link puts the green cap on and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>gets his kid to smile.. “It suits you, little hero,” Ezlo says, because it does and he’s not one to lie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the sudden Elzo’s in a hug, Link wrapped around his waist like a Madderpillar web (the princess’ hand is still clutching in Link’s, Ezlo notices). He knew the kid was stronger than he looked, but gosh, he hugged with a strength gained only from hard work and determination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s at this point Ezlo realizes that he really doesn’t want to leave. He’s fated to, he must, but he doesn’t want to. Fate is cruel, he learns, it forces the innocent into horrible danger, it forces children to become warriors, it forces friends to leave and never return. He feels all of Link’s sadness in this hug and he wonders if he’s done enough, if the support he offered staved off the loneliness of being a hero, if his kid will be fine when he leaves. His child’s already hurt and no matter how much he’s done, his leaving will hurt him more, and Ezlo can only hope his previous actions are enough to last a lifetime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s with great melancholy (and difficulty, this kid has a strong grip) that Ezlo pulls himself away from Link. “I have to go now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I have to.” Ezlo is met with silence, and before he can stall any more, he says, “Take care…” and casts the shrinking spell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The walk to the Minish Door is much longer when you’re small, Ezlo realizes, for he knew, just didn’t think about it. He hears Link step towards it, and oh, his heart cracks just enough and he can’t just leave without a final goodbye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Farewell, my friend,” he calls back to Link, who’s head swivels towards him (he knows how to listen for unheard voices), “and don’t forget to test that charm out and visit your smallest friends sometime!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile on Link’s face as he checks the charm and understands convinces Ezlo that he’s gonna be alright, after all.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Dot had watched and Dot had waited and Dot knew Link needed her more than her dad did right now, so while her father ordered her to bed rest, she took Link (who hadn’t let her go) and snuck out through the basement: the classic way, how Link had gotten into the Castle when it was locked off and how she had gotten out to go visit him in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took him to his house, which at this point was basically her house as well. Link’s grandpa had welcomed her with open arms, treating her just like a normal kid, while her dad and the others in the Castle treated her like she was glass and called her by her full name no matter what she said. Zelda Regia Dottram Bospheramus of Hyrule the Tenth was long and stupid. Dot was much more down to earth than that airy dumb idiot name. She liked it a lot better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link was the one who’d given her that nickname. He’d picked up that she hated being called Zelda extremely fast, and the first thing he’d said to her was, “What do you want me to call you?” That was when Dot decided she’d be his friend. Luckily, Link also decided he’d be hers (she’d got to give him his nickname shortly after, when she’d arrived at Link's house to find him covered in ink he’d spilled while preparing to write her a letter. Inky fit him).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grandpa Smith wasn’t home, so it must be four-thirty or so, that’s when he does deliveries and the sun wasn’t low enough for him to be close to getting home. She bet they had a few hours alone. That’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>she needed, but it sure helped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> When she’d asked what Link needed earlier, he’d said he didn’t know. That was scary. That meant that something had happened that Dot couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She wasn’t going to be helpless anymore, she was going to find a way to help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot spun around and went to place her hands on her hips, but Inky didn’t let go and got dragged forwards easily. Dot figured three things out really fast. First, Link was stronger than she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>before </span>
  </em>
  <span>his adventure, so he let her drag him, which meant, secondly, that he was extremely scared of letting her go, hinting that, thirdly, whatever was wrong was </span>
  <em>
    <span>much more wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> than she’d originally thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sleeping over, Inky,” Dot said, and Link’s face lit up. “Let’s make cookies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Making cookies is harder when you and your cooking buddy are always touching. Problem one occurred when to get the flour down from the top shelf, instead of jumping up, Link pulled out his Cane of Pacci and flipped it off the shelf down to the counter, which would have worked if the flour wasn’t open. To be fair to Link, Dot was fully supportive of this plan. The kitchen looked nice covered in flour, she thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Problem two happened when pouring in the chocolate chips. Dot had told Inky to tell her when to stop pouring. She finished pouring the whole bag before she realized something was wrong. She turned back to Link, who was staring at the bowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Inky, this is too many chocolate chips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link looked shell shocked. He looked up at Zelda. “We can stop, sorry. No, I wish they could remove, no, um… I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what?” Dot decided, “You only recover from being stone once. Let’s use all the chocolate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The third problem was odd, and happened after the cookies came out of the oven. They came out good somehow. This was very surprising. Zelda’s dripping melted chocolate everywhere because the cookies are 90% chocolate chips and are missing some flour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link took a bite out of his first cookie and grimaced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you not like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...not enough flour…” Link said, taking a large bite and grabbing another cookie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dot agreed, “But the chocolate’s good!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love them,” Link said, spitting out his next cookie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot eyed him suspiciously. “Do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link froze, another cookie in his hand. It took him a moment to decide what to say. In the end, it didn’t seem like he decided anything at all. “...I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t have been good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment got interrupted by Grandpa Smith coming back to take in his utterly ruined kitchen and utterly delighted children. He was as warm as always (that was the word to describe him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and Zelda was thrilled to be back with him. He’d been worried too, she could tell from the way he tittered over them like a mother bird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they were cleaned up and ready to go to bed, Dot and Link had decided on some new rules (wonderfully titled Dot and Inky’s Cool Rules by Grandpa Smith) to follow for the ongoing future:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rule One: No using items if there’s a simpler solution.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rule Two: You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but make sure to use another form of communication instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rule Three: Unless you’re sure you hate it, eat at least one serving at every meal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curled up next to Link, his hand clenched in hers as it had been all night, Dot decided that tomorrow they would go to the Castle and go into the library and go find books on sign language so they talk without using their mouths anymore. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Recovery from being stone was gonna take a while, her dad had said, going on about something called ‘trauma’ and ‘PTSD,’ though that last one was just four letters and thus obviously meant absolutely nothing. She didn’t have any ‘trauma,’ that was for sure. She was very cold, and felt stiff, and felt an urgent need deep within her to never stop moving, but that’s just because it’s cold and she had a lot of sugar. She’s fine. Link’s not fine, Dot can tell since she’s not stupid, and she doesn’t know what’s wrong, but that was ok. Dot was twelve, and Inky was eleven, so basically adults. They’d figure it out tomorrow, because he was Inky and she was Dot and together they could do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Melari wasn’t expecting to see little Linky anytime soon. From what he’d heard from his fellow leaders in the town and the forest, all the evil had been eradicated a while ago now, almost a year ago, probably by that wish cap thingamajigger Ezlo had made. That’d eliminate the need for someone to climb up a mountain, he woulda thunk. He’d also thought Ezlo had gone, since the door was closed (the Minish all knew the door had closed, it’s something you feel, not something you’re told), and Link’s ability to be this size gone with it. But quench his hammers, the little guy stood right in front of him, twiddlin’ his thumbs, lookin’ like he’s working up the courage to say something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fellas, hold up now, if you please,” Melari commanded, stopping two of his seven students to stop hammering their current work (a gorgeous shortblade). “Is that Link?” The kid nodded. Melari guffawed. “Well, well, well, long time no see, kiddo! Come over ‘ere, lemme give you a hug!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link slowly made his way over and Melari wrapped him in a big but quick bear hug. Man, that kid hugged strong. “Well, little Link, how’d you get back to Melari’s Mine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um…” Link glanced at something he was holding, “I have a friend, helped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful! And I thought Ezlo leaving woulda stopped ya from visiting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link shifted his weight from left to right, looking a bit more on edge. He played with the tip of his floppy green hat. He held out a small, bird-like charm for Melari to see. ”Gift.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melari leaned in. Ah, that charm leaked of size manipulating magic, Ezlo must have made it quickly. It was strong enough to last ages. “I see! Clever fellow, that Ezlo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss ‘m.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, now he got it. Kid was sad. “Well, kiddo, I’m real sorry. You doing alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link simply nodded. “Good good! A man of few words, I respect that, I get it. Now, you’re here for a reason, surely?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This seemed to get little Linky back on track. He glanced at the thing in his hand (was that a cue card?) and spoke with the most confidence Melari had seen today. “I wanna learn smithing from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had certainly not been what Melari was expecting. “Well, kiddo, I’m busy, don’t know if I have time to start from the beginnin’-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grandpapa’s already a smith, I know basics ‘n stuff,” Link muttered, “Grandpapa said getting variety is ‘mportant cause everyone’s got d’fferent meth-o-do-lo-gies to learn about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melari smiled to cover his slight concern. He was pretty sure little Link here talked much better when he first met the kid. His cadence now was much more mechanical, one word at a time, like he was working out each one right before saying it (though this bit was much better than the earlier ones). The dropping i’s thing was new too. But who was he to judge? He wasn’t some type of scholar, unless you called smithing knowledge scholarly. And if the kid had a genuine interest, he wasn’t gonna turn him down. He must help his grandfather out already; no wonder he had such a strong hug!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In that case, little Link, I don’t see why not! I’m always open to more eager students!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link beamed. “Thank you, s’r! ‘M quite appreciative, s’r!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well there’s no need to call me sir; if you’re workin’ here, you’re gonna be callin’ me boss,” Melari said with a wink. “Now, how old are you now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- w- th- umm…” Link stuttered, trying to get his voice back under control (that certainly was new). “‘m twelve and a half.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And fucking adorable at that. “Well then, kiddo, here’s what you’re gonna do for me. Remember this, now.” Link nodded seriously. “You’re gonna go back to your grandfather, he’s been teachin’ ya, right?” Another nod. “Alrighty, you’re gonna go to him and you’re gonna get me a form o’ consent to teach a minor, for legal reasons and all; I’m not worried about you though, savin’ the country and all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blushed. “Dottie did the hard work, just helped. I did. Just help. I- I mean-”</span>
</p>
<p><span>Melari cut Link off. “Whateva you did, it helped a ton, don’t sell yourself short! Anyways, you’re gonna get that, and you’re gonna get him to write down what you already know for me so I can start you off on the right path. You got it? Repeat it for me.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Link blinked. “Need permission from Grandpapa and a list of what ‘ve done from Grandpapa?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly, kiddo!” Melari nodded. “Now get those and come back Monday so we can start, ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link nodded, grinning. “Of course, s- boss. Thank you, boss!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothin’, Link! Now go home and get some rest. You have any plans?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M seeing Dottie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful! Have a great time, kiddo!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link waved bye and started to head out. Melari signaled to his students to start their work back up before noticing the paper Link had dropped. He picked it up. Huh, it was a cue card, though it didn’t seem to be by little Linky. The original author had left a note at the bottom: “You can do it Inky! I believe in you! :).” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inky, huh. A weird nickname for the kid, Melari thought, but it fit him pretty well. An odd duck, that kid was. He was his odd duck now, though, and a determined, exited one at that. Melari was psyched to see the kid more often. Maybe it would help him out in the long run.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The last time Zelda was at the house, she’d called him warm. Smith found he rather liked the descriptor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d moved in from a country across the seas, the house had been cold, new, without a soul to even warm. Smith had thought that that wouldn’t do, and set to making it a home. The original sitting room became his forge, the attic a fully furnished bedroom with quilts and puffy pillows, the final room a sitting room and kitchen chock full of ingredients, seating, and comfy throw pillows. Smith, when he finished the decor, realized he really liked pillows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, the house was rarely cold (perks of running a blacksmithing company, he supposed). The roaring fires penetrated through the entire household, even up to the second floor, seeping through the floorboards, into the insulation, joining them under the covers to warm their souls and their body during the chilly nights.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smith had aimed to match that warmth from the time he’d moved in, for even if the house was literally warm, it remained inundated in cold if the inhabitants’ souls were ice. Thus, despite living a ways off the beaten path, he opened his doors and let everyone in. His house became traveler’s, knight’s, townsfolk’s, and the stray cat that hung around the forest’s (that cat loved all his pillows). Eventually his business was booming, his friend group had tripled, and he’d gained quite the title. You don’t get to be the Royal Blacksmith </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>by being the best blacksmith around, he’d discovered from his best friend Daltus, you have to have some connections, and by golly if he had nothing else he had connections.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smith was doing well when he received the letter that his relatives from his old home had died, leaving a four-year-old in their wake. Taking him in was the easiest decision of his life. Link had arrived off the ship, hair shaved short and bearing a week’s worth of clothing and nothing else, and said not a word for months. Then he’d taken the kid to the town, and on the way home, arms full of books, pastries, and a figurine, Link had looked up at him and said, ”Thank you, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, ohohohoho! Link, honey, I’m your grandfather! You don’t have to call me sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link looked at him and beamed in a way that he’d never lose. “Ok. Thank you, Grandpapa!” That was the day Smith </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly </span>
  </em>
  <span>became Link’s grandfather.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second easiest decision of his life was taking in the young Princess, who’d entered the house at age 6 and a half (proudly stated from the girl herself) and, in a dress richer than his favorite chocolate cake, declared that she lived in the woods. Smith took one look at the young princess and decided to welcome her just like any other. The correct decision, as she came back the next day, and the next, and the next. He let Daltus think she fooled him when he professed his worries about his particularly bold daughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two kids warmed the house up in a new way. There wasn’t a day that lacked a shenanigan. Once Link had managed to fire up the forge on his own and used it to cook pizza; another time Dot (as she liked to be called) had set up an obstacle course for the cat; and of course there was the day the duo had ventured to the woods and come back adorned in poison ivy. That last one had been bad actually, in hindsight they’d both admitted it wasn’t their brightest idea, but they’d done it together and recovered just fine, so Smith didn’t get too angry. Things like this changed his days up just enough to brighten them fourfold from what they’d been before. He loved his grandson and his granddaughter-by-proxy and their everlasting heat. Overall, Smith was quite pleased when the young girl had called him warm. It had been his goal for a while, and no one told the truth more clearly than a twelve year old.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight, two years after that, he woke up to find that there was a coldness in the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t in bed; he was at the table, cushioned by an exuberant amount of pillows. Seems he fell asleep doing paperwork. Normally Link noticed and woke him up. He hadn’t. Perhaps that's what made the air so chilling, so empty: the lack of life. The forge was colder than it had been in ages (Link used it late), the kitchen oddly clean (both he and Link tended to forget to clean it), the lights all off (Dot hated the darkness, so Link kept the lights on). All that filled the air was a slight murmuring echoing down the stairwell and the thick presence of nothing. He had to fix it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His soul gravitated upwards, rising, following the sounds up the stairs and into the bedroom. It sunk when he saw his grandson, curled in blankets and pillows (like there was something missing) and in almost-silent tears. Smith made a decision and silently held out a hand. It took a second for Link to notice, and another for him to accept it. Smith led him down the stairs and out of the house, pausing to grab some supplies from the kitchen (Link’s tiny unquenchable lantern among them). He guided his tearful grandson across the hills and through the woods where he’d spent many hours chopping wood to make charcoal for the forge, around the trees and over the puddles to the stump he’d rested on day after day. He’d counted the rings out, she’d been a hundred fifty when she was felled, probably due to rot, as a small hole in the middle revealed it’s true hollow nature. It remained strong even now, and felt just different enough that Smith had returned whenever he needed a silent moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Smith sat Link down on the stump. Tears still fell silently onto the grass as Link curled back up into a ball, holding himself together in a way he did so often now, after the days where Stockwell or Dr. Left or that sweet traveling trio would carry his boy, asleep and injured (less so than he’d been when he was found, Smith assumed), back to his house billowing with heat, an odd cap on his head and something so dark in his eyes. Smith placed the lantern on the ground, lighting the grotto up, and unfurled the leftover cake from little Dot’s fifteenth birthday party.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once she knows the reason, she’ll be overjoyed we ate it,” is the first thing Smith said to Link that night, and he handed over a slice of the chocolate cake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link took it and stared. His wide eyes looked back up into Smith’s, and he scootched over to make room for Smith. He settles down and Link curls into his side. They eat in silence, as they have since the day Dot went home alone for the first time since the Festival. Link had stopped doing a lot of things since then; the list of Cool Rules had grown on Smith’s wall, scrawled in various writing instruments, daily at first, and much slower now, but it still grew and evolved and the first and most important rule now was “talk however you want to.” It seemed Link talked like one of the cats he hates so much: if he stays in the room with you, you’ve won his trust. He stays here now, with him, and the trust in his touch was palpable. Smith knew not to push, but somehow, improbably, Link speaks out loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Papa… Grandpapa, my head hurts. Can’t think, we see something and my brain says things, stuff, crap, nonsense, and I can’t--don’t-- Dottie says she’s cold all the t’me now, and ‘m not cold like that, but… ‘m cold too.” Link ponders his statement and his eyes go deeper than they had before the day he’d decided that Dot’s fate rested on his shoulders, and Smith knew he still hadn’t realized how the whole world had rested on his shoulders too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I do to help?” Smith asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hug?” Link barely asks before wrapping himself in Smith’s overcoat, around his torso, and breaking again into tears. Smith just stays there, because the best way to help is to do as Link asked, and he was never one to say no to his grandson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, when the world almost ends again (and again), Smith reflects on his parenting, whether he did well, if he could have stopped the pain his grandson and granddaughter had went through, but always came to the same conclusion every other parent had, one inevitable, one painful but true: constantly and at the same time, Smith knows that he should never have let Link leave and could never have stopped him. Smith, with all his warmth and all his comfort, accepts it, keeps his doors open and his house warm and his outview as positive as he can; a stalwart against the darkness his children faced, a pillar they could come back to, and a source of the heat that fuels kindness and caring and love for anyone that needed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He falls into the roll the way his kids fell into his arms: with ease.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The one and only Great Fairy of Flame, guardian of Death Mountain, was not pleased with the youths making their way to their chambers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were utter disasters. The one in cerulean has been going off about how their mountain -</span>
  <em>
    <span>their beloved mountain</span>
  </em>
  <span>- was a health and safety hazard. Absurd! And he would put out the gorgeous flames that bedazzled the floor like the gemstones on her flame-amber dress. The only purpose of the words that had left his mouth the whole time the quartet were to warn about how the fires and lava were dangerous (just don’t step in them, obviously), and to threaten the other three into listening to how dangerous the stunts they were pulling were. It was odd, they thought, that the one so anchored to the sea was so worried about the flames it could quench. He should be much more worried about the other extreme.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crimson one, matching his color if not his demeanor, was having the time of his life ignoring cerulean. He thrived in the heat, absorbed it into his soul, and ran with it. Literally. He moved fast around the floor, taking in what secrets it hid, and laughed at the new threats that emerged. A foolish viewpoint, they thought, ignoring the dangers and pains in favor of the sweet and happy moments. Much too likely to get hurt. Cerulean agreed; the wave on crimson’s tail aiming to quench his joy just couldn’t seem to catch up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, the jade one seemed to be keeping track of what was happening. At least, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be. He held some paper, marking off at random intervals and keeping an eye on the others. When he wasn’t doing that, he was nowhere and everywhere, gazing at the ceiling, the rocks, the gaps, gazing and wondering. There wasn’t much to look at, they thought. At least this one was as orderly as he was in the clouds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last one, in a bold mauve, seemed to exist only to cause chaos. The constant arguments had not ceased once from the moment they entered their premises, and it was fully and definitively his fault. He cornered the protector, dampened the dreamer, distracted the watcher. Though, now, as they finished fighting the demon Gouen (Vaati’s handiwork), the oddness of his actions came to light. The arguments were never anything meaningful, not really, they ended more in healed hearts than in shattered souls. It was almost like they had another purpose, like this one had figured something out and was delaying facing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quartet arrived at their chamber doors now. They didn’t think they had done so well, though they weren’t paying much attention. Ah well, time for their dramatic speech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are the Great Fairy of Flame, guardian of Death Mountain. You have-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you it was a flame fairy,” the cerulean one spat at mauve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I still stand by it being stereotypical.” Stereotypical? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>nerve</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, calm down, we can argue later. We interrupted her,” the jade one pressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about that!” the crimson one apologized, with the rest following suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, rude, but they could forgive that. “You have done well, young adventurers. This time, you managed to collect... </span>
  <em>
    <span>5,742 rupees</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup!” said jade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cleared out the place!” crimson beamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was pretty complicated,” maeve commented.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And much too dangerous,” cerulean muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. Well then. This was unexpected. In shock, they continued to speak. “Collecting this many rupees is an incredible feat! I dub you brave heroes and grant you this golden key.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the golden key made its way to the quartet, they thought about this group. It seemed like they’d misread them. Crimson had navigated the floors like clockwork, with cerulean clearing out the dangers as they went. Jade had kept track of where they’d been, and maeve had quickly thought through any puzzles they’d come across. Though hidden by odd traits and habits, they made the perfect team.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The key reached them and joined two others. They nodded. “At last all of you have collected all three golden keys. You can now make it to Vaati’s Palace. That path will likely be much more dangerous than any you’ve seen yet. And yet onwards you must go, great heroes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a wave of their hand, they whisked the quartet back to the entrance to the mountain, but paused when they saw the crimson one hold up a hand to stop. “Yes, crimson one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...sorry, ma-am- is that ok to call you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...it is fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok ma-am. I just wanted to apologize for, well, the other me’s interrupting you. We’re kinda, um…” The crimson one’s shoulders fell. “After we beat Vaati, we have to put the Four Sword back, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And merge back into one, correct.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we also forged the blade, and… it was strong magic. We don’t quite fit together anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your point?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the best, most wonderful, </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> free I’ve- we’ve been in three years. When combined… it doesn’t work so well. Vio and I, we’ve been around the longest of us four, not by much, but by enough. I think only me and Vio had realized it before now; he’s proven himself to be the smartest. We’ve been trying to distract the others from thinking about it. But I think Blue’s catching on, so that’s why they had that outburst. I’m sorry again, we didn’t mean to offend you or anything. We're just… scared. We’re scared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Great Fairy of Flame took in this problem, this not-quite-mortal predicament, and the oddness, the absurdity of it, they got it. They were one of a group, after all. Imagining being stuck with </span>
  <em>
    <span>them </span>
  </em>
  <span>in one body hurt their brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I cannot aid you with your problem.” The crimson one sighed. “But, I accept your apology. I can relate to being tied to others with a strength stronger than most. If you need my aid in the future, feel free to call on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crimson smiled. “Thank you. This means a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is nothing,” they nodded serenely. “I will reunite you now.” Crimson nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the magic started to work, they spoke again. “Link?” The disappearing fourth looked up in surprise. “I’m sorry,” they said, and for the first time in their disconnected, immortal existence, they meant it.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Link swings the hammer down to form the </span>
  <em>
    <span>swordscythespearscimitar</span>
  </em>
  <span> blade no, no, he’d decided on a scimitar, self, not the other three things </span>
  <em>
    <span>theysuckhardtousebadrangestopbeingso whiny </span>
  </em>
  <span>well, it wasn’t for him, it was for the store as he worked to become a master </span>
  <em>
    <span>noonewillbuyityestheywillcanwestopIhatethis </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hated this god damn fucking much!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>welltechnicallytheyuswenowesaidwe’restoppingthat </span>
  </em>
  <span>learned his first swear from Dot about </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactlyyeahitwasquick </span>
  </em>
  <span>five seconds after he </span>
  <em>
    <span>defeateddestroyedannihilateddecimated </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vaati and she’d said, “Thank </span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span> you’re here, he wanted to marry me! That’s gross, I’m not getting married to a demon guy. And- are you four people?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thatlastpart’snotrelatedtotheswearsbutit’simportanttousIdidn’twanttothinkaboutusthoughit’snotlikewecanescapeagain</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Link sighed, sticking the blade back in the fire </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesfireNOfireit’sfineifwe’recarefulwe’llbecareful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He hadn’t been expecting another journey </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeahnokiddingneitherwasIVaaticomingbackshockedeveryone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, nevermind the splitting </span>
  <em>
    <span>magicitemsgetstrongerthelongertheyexistitseemsbutthatwasonlythreeyearshowstrongwillitget </span>
  </em>
  <span>and opinions on it were </span>
  <em>
    <span>itwasniceI’mstillangryaboutitit’sworryingIhopeitdoesn’thappenagain </span>
  </em>
  <span>mixed</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He pulls the scimitar back out </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’snotoneyetitwillbewe’reworkingonitstopit </span>
  </em>
  <span>and starts to hit it again with a </span>
  <b>bang</b>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On one hand, he had an explanation for </span>
  <em>
    <span>usyeahsorryI’msorrywedidn’tasketobelikethis </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voices and both he and Dot knew what exactly was </span>
  <b>bang</b>
  <span> going on </span>
  <em>
    <span>goshshe’sthebestshetriedsohardtohelpwhennoonereallyknewhowtoincludingusincudingus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Plus, if he tried, he could tell them apart </span>
  <em>
    <span>nowthatweknowwearen’tcompletelyinsane </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vio </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’reprobablystillinsane </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blue </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’snotalwaysabadthing </span>
  </em>
  <span>Red </span>
  <em>
    <span>aslongasitdoesn’tstopus</span>
  </em>
  <span> Green </span>
  <b>bang</b>
  <span>. Helped convince him he was fine.</span>
</p>
<p><em><span>WhoareyoukiddingwewerefinewhentheswordwasdrawnwewerefinebeforetheswordwasmadeI’mnotsurewe’llbefineagain </span></em><span>the thoughts racing through his mind constantly were right. It was worse, he </span><b>bang</b> <em><span>theystopwehavetostop</span></em><span> thou-knew it was worse. He split and was free for just a second and then they were forced </span><b>bang</b><span> right back to this I</span><em><span>meanweknewIdidn’tit’sobviousifyouthinkaboutitohisityeahitisstoparguing</span></em><span> and it was at the same time required and so, so heartbreaking. He couldn’t decide </span><b>bang</b><span> on the worst part: </span><em><span>thelosttasteoffreedom </span></em><span>they could do things and not be bogged down by pure hopelessness and that was </span><b>bang</b><span> gone</span><em><span> beingremindedofsilence </span></em><span>they’d loved how empty his head had been, how free they were in comparison to now</span><em><span> thedifficultydoingthings </span></em><span>he </span><b>bang</b><span> missed being able to form words, sentences out loud</span><em><span> thewaypeoplelookatus </span></em><span>they don’t wanna be pitied anymore. Yeah, he couldn’t decide </span><b>bang </b><em><span>theycouldn’tdecideonanythinganymore</span></em><span>, each problem really came down to how close he was to normal before being yanked back to this. The </span><b>bang</b><span> literal only progress he’d made was matching noun and verb number </span><em><span>that’sitit’skindasadnotkindadefinitley</span></em><span>, and it had taken them three years.</span></p>
<p><span>His </span><b>bang</b><span> hands were starting to shake </span><em><span>justkeephammeringit’llstopthat’sstupidweneedabreak </span></em><span>and the room was hot </span><em><span>wellduhit’saforgeweshouldbeusedtoithisisodd</span></em><span>. Link just kept hammering, pushing the blade</span> <span>into </span><b>bang </b><span>shape </span><em><span>curvedIstillthinkit’sstupiditdoesn’tmatterstoparguingmyheadhurts</span></em><span>. They have to keep going </span><em><span>we’resweatingalot </span></em><span>it wasn’t a choice. Vaati had broken free once </span><em><span>myheart’spounding</span></em><span> tried to </span><b>bang</b><span> take over the world twice </span><em><span>keepbreathing</span></em><span> when the third time happens it’s on him, and </span><em><span>ifwhen </span></em><span>it happened </span><em><span>healthyusnostopitstopitnow </span></em><span>couldn’t </span><b>bang</b><span> let anyone else draw that sword. It was </span><em><span>theirshisoursnonono</span></em><span> it was their curse to bear, he </span><em><span>I’mhotI’mcold</span></em><span> sacrificed their soul </span><b>bang</b><span> to make it </span><em><span>ourchesthurtsweneedtobreath</span></em><span> and he wouldn’t give that up but he couldn’t let someone else get </span><em><span>splinteredshatteredseperatedwhatarewenawanywayswe’reonerightjustfourtakesononepersonbutwe’resosodifferentwecan’tbecompletelyseperatepeopleweallcamefromthesamesouleverydecisiononeofusmakesisonewecouldhavemadebeforeallthiswejustcanmakemorenowthat’snogoodifwemakefourdecisionswhatdowereallydecideumwellI’mnotsureexactlywedon’tfuckingknow-</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>With a </span>
  <b>buchang, </b>
  <span>the hammer slips out of his hand as it swings downward and slams the half-formed scimitar off center. It skews to the side, slipping off the anvil and flying towards the dirty dirty floor and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nonotmyscimitarit’sgonnaberuinedcatchitwaitNO </span>
  </em>
  <span>he drops the hammer and reaches towards the falling glowing blade. His hands, sheathed in gloves, are sweating, shaking, and as he steps forward with one leg to grab it the glove itself slips and drops with the blade straight onto his leg, now exposed past the curve of his apron with the step forward, and everything is pain for just a second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>OUCH!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Motherfucking oh my goddesses we’re so fucking stupid-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>The blade’s ruined, we're gonna have to melt it down to get the dirt out.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did we try to catch the GLOWING metal, that’s blacksmith rule number one!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey guys? Hold on a second. Everyone stop.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Link stopped. It was silent, and it was glorious. He basked in it, the peaceful silence of just being, something he’d missed desperately for years now, something he had gotten a hint of a year ago and had stolen away again. He was there for ages.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re gonna have to treat this burn.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>I think it’s the pain that cleared our minds.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>...I don’t wanna go back.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment of silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>...We could-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>No. We’re not doing that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is the closest to normal we’ve been while in one body.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>We could </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>die</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, burns aren't safe easy wounds to deal with. One infection and-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>We don’t have to go too far, and if we take care of them…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is the coward’s way out-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No it’s not! We aren’t cowards!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Listen, if we use just one small flame, near our torso where no one will notice-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s certainly doable, and I trust you to keep us healthy while we do it. I know you’ve been reading those medical books, worrywart.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another moment of silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>...We’re more desperate than we realized, huh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did you ever think we weren’t?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t phrased as a question.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>I wanna be able to think straight and talk and laugh again. I’m in.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>I still say no. Dot would hate it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>But if we could actually speak to her again? I’d give anything to improve from how we are now, to be able to talk to her fully and completely again.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>She’d never agree to us hurting ourselves for her sake.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...We keep it a secret, and I’m in too.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>As am I.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We treat it correctly, only do it when we really need it. This is dangerous shit and you all know it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Is that a yes?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pain in his leg continues to throb, it has to be treated soon, he knows, but his head is silent, he can think, finally, and that’s really what decides it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>...I’m outvoted,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the final part of his brain justified. ”</span>
  <em>
    <span>So yes. Let’s do it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>For some Goddess-forsaken reason, Swiftblade was the head of the new knights training program. He knew the </span>
  <em>
    <span>most </span>
  </em>
  <span>sword techniques, but they weren’t the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>one. Really, it should have been one of his brothers. He’s convinced he was only hired because he lived in town and his brothers preferred hidden grottoes. Seriously, he wanted to visit them, but Scarblade lived in the swamp and it smells bad. Actually, Grimblade lived </span>
  <em>
    <span>in the castle gardens</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hire HIM.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nope, he was stuck here because he was the best swordsperson they could find. He just wanted to run his small personal shop and get people who enjoy learning how to use a sword instead of a bunch of stuck-up knight brats who think they’re the bee’s knees. Though he didn’t expect </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>knight to be giving him trouble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You literally taught me how to use a sword, I don’t need to do this stupid training,” objected Link, his best student five years ago and the bane of his existence today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Link, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>required </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do this. I know I taught you but you joined the army and now you have to go through the starting training-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if I don’t and say I did?” Link beamed sweetly, dripping with evil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are so many people watching right now,” Swiftblade sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>use </span>
  </em>
  <span>my sword, I defeated Vaati twice. You know this. You wouldn’t have trained me if you didn’t know what was going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was true, he had to admit. Brimblade had sent a letter detailing the disaster of the Picori Festival to him as soon as he could. He’d kept it a secret from the townsfolk for their sanity, but when Link, armed with a request by the King, had walked in… he’d done what he was supposed to. Like he was going to do now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe I’ve actually seen you use that sword outside of my dojo. I’d love to see how you’ve improved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! How about you show me some horizontal slash-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just going to run u- me through the sword basic training; I’m not eleven anymore, that can’t trick me. I’m not stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dammit, Swiftblade thought. This kid was </span>
  <em>
    <span>infuriating</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and a bit confusing, actually. His demeanor seemed to change with every sentence he said, first serious, then playful, then contrary, then honored, then super annoyed. The actual body language changed too, opening up, closing itself down, shifting side to side, front to back. He didn’t think Link was like this when he first met him, but that was a while ago. Through all the changes, though, Swiftblade could tell Link was mad, and he intended to use that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so you’re afraid show me,” he said in a realizing, baiting tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re afraid you’ll mess up, obviously. That’s why you won’t show me. You’re a coward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You… </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>… I am not...” Link was practically vibrating. He may have actually been vibrating. Worrying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just needed one more push. “You say you’re not a coward?” Swiftblade pulled his sword. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Prove it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link’s body tensed, and just a second before the fight began, Swiftblade realized this was a horrific idea. Link had saved the world twice, while Swiftblade had not and also was out of shape. He was outmatched, clearly. Once again Swiftblade cursed his brothers for living as hermits and forcing him into this job.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link jumped at him with a downward swing. Swiftblade dove to avoid it, continuing into a roll to dodge the following strikes. With a shield thrust he knocked Link’s sword up, buying him time to get back on his feet. He startled; Link had stopped, sizing him up. Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To win this against odds, Swiftblade was going to have to be swift (goddess dammit brain, now was not pun time). If he disarmed his opponent now, he wouldn’t have to worry about a straight up sword fight. The problem was that Link knew this. He’d have to trick him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swiftblade bounced on his feet before dashing at Link. Link pulled back into a more defensive position, but Swiftblade stopped short, bending at the knees. Link’s eyes shone as he prepped to counter the jump: exactly what he’d wanted to happen. Swiftblade shifts and rolls under Link’s outstretched arm. He swings the flat of his blade up, aiming for the wrist. He’s got a strong arm, a hit there hopefully will knock the sword out of Link’s grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link clearly wasn’t expecting this, but he was a fast thinker, and Swiftblade could tell his plan wasn’t going to work as soon as he saw Link’s eyes clear in understanding. He shifted forwards and up. Dodging the swing of the sword is traded for a weaker hit as Swiftblade’s arm slammed into Link’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Link collapsed. Wait, what?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swiftblade pulled up on his heels, still crouched, and watched in shock as Link cradled his left torso, murmuring bundles of words unintelligible. His sword hadn’t even made contact with the kid, only his arm. Did that mean-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link looked up, eyes wide. “What? I- W- Um, no I’m ok. I’m great.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ok, Swiftblade’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid. “Not only did you have my back open for the win, but I hit you on the side with my arm. That’s not damaging. You are on the ground like you just got sliced open. Let me look at your side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link stumbled up in a panic, feet unsteady, body </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>shaking this time. “No. No I’m fine- Dstnptgthrbfcdxcfvc oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking goddesses</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stare at each other in shock at what came out of Link’s mouth (which shocked Swiftblade more, did he not </span>
  <em>
    <span>expect </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make that sound?).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link, whether because he’s the more experienced fighter or because his flight instinct kicked in, reacted first. “I’m going to go see Dot bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Link wait-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was gone. He had those Pegasus Boots after all, he was the fastest bloke in the army. Swiftblade stood. He had to report this, preferable to the Princess, as she’d actually do something. Link wouldn’t talk to him again, but his wound had to be treated. Swiftblade went to start walking when the ache from the short fight settled in. He was so out of shape and he was gonna pay for it for weeks. This day couldn’t get any worse-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An explosion sounded from the direction Link had ran off in (the sword temple, if he remembered right). Swiftblade sighed. Of fucking course it got worse. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>course it did.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>This was going to be the easiest mission in his entire life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d spent his whole life watching the hero of this realm. Each motion, each word spoken, he committed to memory and followed to the letter. He had to, after all, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>his shadow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d watched this boy break, pick up a sword only the gods should handle and reforge it, bearing his soul to a magical blade </span>
  <em>
    <span>like the absolute fool he was</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That’s not something you do and come away from okay. The shadow had watched, unaffected, as his other split, as he suffered, as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>kept going </span>
  </em>
  <span>and split himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>further </span>
  </em>
  <span>and fell farther down and down into his own mind. He had to give it to the idiot, he had the determination of a bull. To keep going when your mind’s more fragmented than a shattered mirror? It took guts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, the shadow was more impressed that his ward had drawn the blade again and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>put it back</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d been happier than he’d seen him in years on that second adventure and he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>given it up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. For his friend? Props to his target but like what the fuck, how are you that unselfish? The shadow could never. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t matter, of course. The shadow was perplexed, but overall, the heart and guts this kid has worked perfectly for The Plan. His desperateness for recovery made him weak. The shadow had been there when the burning started, after all; he thrived by the flickering flame just as his caster did, though without the bodily harm (quite the plus in his opinion). So the shadow knew this hero was malleable, manipulable, and this made his job easy as pie. Though pie isn’t easy to bake. He tried once. It exploded. He tried again. It exploded again. The shadow really thought the expression should be changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Step One of The Plan went simply: get the little Princess friend in some trouble, her pal’s drawn to the sword like a moth to light, </span>
  <em>
    <span>poof</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Vaati's free. Took like five minutes. Honestly, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>thought that would be a bit harder. He got the maidens too, like, it was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>day</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His future work of art got into an argument almost immediately. Fucking glorious. Strife. He ate it up like his favorite cake (vanilla with chocolate frosting; you gotta go for the classics). Gosh, they were tripping over themselves to fight. That’s what happens when you keep yourself alive with pain, it just hurts you more. He should really stop that. It’s not healthy. Like, he got hit gently in the side and collapsed on the ground, that’s pretty bad. Not that the shadow </span>
  <em>
    <span>cares</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the hero’s well being; it’s just that it’s been really easy thus far and like he wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>challenge before he took over the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever. They were arguing, which made Step Two of The Plan even better: split them up. Since they were each technically a fourth of the same person AND hadn’t ever been alone before, that would throw a wrench in them. At them. Into their plan? Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, he just needed an excuse they were going canoeing. On the river with a waterfall. Did they not know the area or something? This is so stupid. By the gods he fucking hated, this was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>week </span>
  </em>
  <span>huh? He just had to make the portals once they fell over. They wouldn’t even see them, they’d be in the dark about how this happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All it’ll take is some simple magic and some smart placements and the group would be ruined. Stick the little red one in a thief town, he’ll get robbed of every penny. The blue one can go near the ice witch, he complains constantly and will surely piss her off. The green one can go in the desert because he doesn’t feel like coming up with a reason, and the purple one (they call him Vio? Weak, just go by Purple, you gotta own it, dipshit) can go to… the creepy dramatic forest at sunset? He should take a vacation, clearly the fates were doing his job for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Step Two was a walk in the creepy forest at sunset. Now, it was on to Step Three. And oh, was the shadow excited for this one. He’d practiced for it, had multiple speech drafts, done his makeup. This was to be his magnum opus, his most evil plan. There’s a reason he picked the one always starting arguments, the one solving puzzles and researching mysteries, the one most likely to not let feelings get in the way of what was really best. What better way to shatter someone wholly and truly than to turn him against himself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The purple one’s eyes gleam in the twilight, analyzing the situation he’s now in. Funny, their hair changes when they split; this one has his decorated with small braids. It was a good look, he’s not gonna lie. You can get that looking real evil with a bit more effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Um, anyways, the purple one’s eyes gleam, blah blah blah, the sky shifts to a smattering of pinks and purples, and the shadow knows this won’t fail. Turn this Vio guy to his side, kill the other three, take over the world. The shadow allowed an evil laugh to start his dramatic villain speech, because this was going to be easy and he was going to have so much fun.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It's not often that you run into the same person four separate times in the same week. It's less often that they don't remember you each time. Then again, it's also not often that you teleport yourself and also a small house into the Dark World, so honestly, Iris had decided to just roll with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first Link that visited her in her little self made prison was one draped in violet. He’d raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re one of those mages, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iris stopped herself from responding to remind herself of the Mage Rules: be as dramatic and evil as possible. She didn’t actually remember the rules but that’s about what they were. “And what’s it to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” the boy smirked, “I’m just one of the heads of Vaati’s army.” Oh goodie, she’s gonna get chewed out. “I’m here to congratulate you on a job well done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- oh. Really?” Crud, that’s not what she expected.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Yes. Moving an entire house into the dark world? Chaotic. Wonderfully creative. I certainly wouldn’t have thought of it. Well done.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Thank you- hey, you never told me your name!”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The reviewer gave her a look. “You didn’t tell me yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One introduction begets another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touche. Link.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iris.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must get going. Keep doing what you’re doing Iris.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, why would I do anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link left, and Iris managed to wait a solid minute before rushing to the window. Lo and behold, there was a small house outside where there certainly wasn’t one before. Oh boy. She hadn’t meant to do that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second Link wore blue, popped in two days later, and immediately asked, “Have you seen anyone who looks like me except they’re stupid as shit? I’m Link by the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hm, a fun question by someone she’d met the other day. Worth a fun answer, in her definitely evil opinion. “Well, someone like you passed by, but they seemed much smarter than you, so-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>this Link gave her was one hundred percent worth the sass. He took the world’s largest breath in. “Where did he go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How would I know? Probably back to, like, his home or whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re useless,” the boy muttered. “Well, see ya. Oh, and by the way, your neighbor in that house over there is really pissed. You know what's wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This Link pointed to the house she's summoned. There was a person in it? Uh oh. Well, he didn’t remember her, so he didn't have to know her involvement. “Nope, not a clue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah well.” And he left. Iris had to take a moment to think about how she teleported another living being for a bit. She had not thought she had the ability to do that. A good existential crisis for the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The third Link was wearing red and actually knocked. Iris let him in, nothing better to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Miss,” he smiled, “have you seen a young mage named Iris? I’m looking for her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Odd, but whatever. Iris has been getting more and more lenient with the daily events in her life, so this is right on the money. “You’re looking at her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, goodie!” red Link cheered, clapping. “Your master says you’ve been missing for ages!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About four, five days now, yeah. Why are you asking?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m part of the Seeker’s Guild.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh great. Joy. “Why did you join those lunatics?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I walked in and they kinda just recruited me. So now I’m just looking for people. It’s what I was doing anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iris narrowed her eyes. This Link was </span>
  <em>
    <span>too nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “And who are you looking for?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Well, my brothers, and you, and this guy’s girlfriend. I’ve got a lead on my brothers and I found you, but I'm still stumped about the girlfriend. Any ideas?</span><span><br/></span> <span>She sighed. “Try the next house over.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Thank you very much, Miss…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iris.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Miss Iris! I’m Link.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he was. “Link, out of curiosity, are your brothers also named Link?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Hahaha, no way,” Link laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “that would have been really dumb of our parents.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a lie, probably, but Iris didn’t care. “Well, good luck, Link. Also, have you perchance seen a small book? It’s red, you can’t read it probably, it’s a bit cursed, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This kid thinks really really hard about her question. “Nope, sorry! I’ll seek it though!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iris sighed. Still stuck here, it seemed. “Ah well. Thank you Link.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing!” the red one beamed as he left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last one showed up three days after that, making it a full week of odd boys who might be the same person. This new green one came in, went up to her, and asked, ”Is this your book?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held out a thick red leather tome with her name inscribed in the front. Iris blinked. “No way. It is! Thank you so much, little fella!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing. Is there a way to get the house over there back to the Light World? I know you’re like an evil mage, but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’ll fix it, say something about ‘the hero made me’ or whatever,” Iris assured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, good!” the green one nodded. “There’s some very worried people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet. Well, you gotta leave, I can’t share my dark secrets with no goody-two-shoes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair. I'll see you then!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Link went to leave, Iris called out. “Hey Link?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid spun around. “How do you know my-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good luck finding your brothers!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The green one took a moment to parse that she knew what he was doing. “I… thanks. It means a lot. More than you think.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>From the tower, Dot got to see everything. She got to see her best friend split again, got to see him get attacked time and time again, get whisked away, frozen, beat up, stressed beyond belief. She got to see when Vio (she’s getting used to calling him Vio) showed up at the tower with Shadow, and got to see him saved, or, well, bailed out, by his other parts (a full betrayal was unthinkable from the beginning. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> who was kidnapped, after all). She got to see everything, again, though this time she wasn’t stone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Got’s a strong word, she thinks, implies that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoys</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, and while she’s glad she can see, can understand even a little bit what Link’s going through, she hates watching him suffer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow's coming up, she sees, and she knows her move. She’s watched this shadow’s actions, and she knew enough to have read his intentions. She just has to get him to realize. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He emerges from the darkness, glaring at her (always a flare for the dramatic, this one). “So the Princess says from her prison, swaddled in more layers than I can count.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot glances down at her gloves-shawl combo. “It’s cold. Anyways, how was your trip?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both know she knows exactly how his last outing ended: badly. “And why do you care?” he drawled.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“You’re joking. You know why.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Yeah, yeah, you rule Hyrule, you care about people, blah blah blah, pathetic, pathetic.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Pathetic?” Dot questioned immediately. “What about caring makes you pathetic?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Caring makes you weak,” comes the answer. “Doing things for others leaves you open to attack. I watch out for myself and myself only.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that's why you allied with Vio.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This startled Shadow, just slightly, his jaw tensed. Dot’s spent ages watching, so she sees now. “The most optimal way to live is to examine the world, take what helps you, and manipulate what won’t. Shifting him to my side served me wholly and completely.” A shrug. “I don’t even care about him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think you practice what you preach, Shadow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bold words from the prisoner-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I watched you cry when you imprisoned Vio.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow froze. “You couldn’t have-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The mirror is right there. I can see it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You surely don’t watch it 24/7-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think I do with my free time? I spent almost a year as a statue just watching, I spent ages in a prison cell just watching, and now I’m here, so I watch and I plan for when I can do something. I can see you. I know how you work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you think I don’t know my priorities?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’re in denial.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scoffed. “Denial? I’ve stayed as true to myself as anyone could. I care for myself only.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why you didn’t go and fight them yourself, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to break them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what purpose does that serve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It brings me pleasure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So him being around brings you pleasure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s hit a nerve, she sees. “My goal is to take over the world, destroying light as I go. Just killing this realm’s hero makes him a martyr. I have to truly destroy him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...then I take over the world.” A grin. “Duh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot heard the pause, saw the hesitation. He’s fixating on Link. “You’re not going to defeat him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, typical princess talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t kill him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve had parts alone multiple times, and they’re not all the best at sword fighting. Hell, you and Vio lived in the same castle. You’ve had your chances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s one conclusion: you care about him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a fool, Princess,” Shadow spits, livid, and turns to stomp away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot can’t let that happen. She’s quite angry herself now, and she still has a job to do. “Fine. Be stubborn. You’ll realize what’s going on soon enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow stopped. He thought. And he turned around. “What are you planning?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have to plan anything. You’ve done enough already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know what your-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Link is my best friend. I’ve known him for eleven years of my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow smirks. “Oh, so you know about the burns.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot’s caught by surprise. “The burns?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“The ones on his torso? The ones he gives himself once a week so he can stay upright?” Shadow’s smile is </span><em><span>vicious</span></em><span>. “Oh. He didn’t tell you. Why would he do that?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>He thinks he’s found a weak point, and he has, but Dot swallows that down enough to speak over it, her voice filled with pure emotion. “Link is someone who is hard to win over.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“And you though you did-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did. And once he’s decided you’re a friend, he’ll do anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, sure-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won him over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow looks at her, confused and angry. “I don’t even like him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>him and he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>and now you’ve won him over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I watch your interactions and I see all the parts of Link </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I know he’s going to do everything to save you just as he has to save me. We’re under his protection; the only thing that can hurt us now is ours-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>No</em>
  </b>
  <span>.” Shadow snarled, and Dot knows when to shut up. “I am going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>defeat</span>
  </em>
  <span> Link and take over the world. I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>like him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>despises </span>
  </em>
  <span>me, and once I </span>
  <em>
    <span>win</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re going to remain here forever knowing you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadow storms off. Dot sits, feet dangling off the side of the tower. “Oh,” she breaths as the entire conversation digs in. Shadow may have thought he’d destroyed her trust in Link. He hadn’t, but she’s still devastated down to her core, because she’s spent years reveling in a twelve year old’s bravado, trying to help him recover, years watching him get worse and worse, years trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything, and she knows it hasn’t worked. Link’s nothing but determined and failing so much? He must be so, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate</span>
  </em>
  <span> to show any improvement that he’d do anything. He’d do anything for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This mental problem she cannot fix alone. The physical cause, however… she might have some new ideas about that.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Left’s patient today is sixteen (soon seventeen) year old Link Smith, accompanied by an extremely serious and angry eighteen year old Dot Bospheramus, otherwise known as the Princess of Hyrule, though if he called her that he would get punched. It’s happened before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking through the paperwork, the doctor noticed that nothing seemed physically wrong with the boy. The blood tests and urine samples showed nothing, blood pressure seemed fine, no oddities in heart rate or breathing, he was short but the rest of the statistics matched that. It was a bit worrying that Link hadn’t been in since he was fifteen, but considering the state of the world around his sixteenth birthday, Dr. Left wasn’t particularly surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a bit shocked by the note in his hands, pressed there by Ms. Dot, along with a look that threatened pain if he didn’t at least consider her proposition. Dr. Left was going to do his job no matter what the young lady wanted, he took his oath for a reason, but sometimes close friends can see problems others can’t (or won’t). Plus, if she was right, this was worrying. He’d keep it in mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Link,” He started slowly, as he always did, “how have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… Better. Considering, well, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes.” The state of the world, yes, everyone knew. “Of course. Well, since this is acting as your first annual physical in two years-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Link. I’m going to be going a bit more in depth today. I’ll start by taking your blood pressure. Now, have you been getting enough sleep recently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link held his arm out for use in the test. “I get enough sleep.” Miss Dot elbowed him hard in the side as the doctor started pumping. “Fine, fine… I, um, it’s hard to fall asleep sometimes. A lot. And I can’t wake up easy. Either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm… ok. Your blood pressure’s fine.” Dr Left swapped the blood pressure monitor for his stethoscope. “Deep breath in… out… in… out… ok. Has anything else changed physically?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I’m sore a lot. I think it’s old wounds but I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to know. I’m going to look at your eyes and ears now.” The doctor went to grab the otoscope. “And how are you mentally?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine-ow!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Left froze. “Was that me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it was Dottie, she pinched me, Dot that </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to tell Dr. Left the truth or so the goddesses help me, I’ll make you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This, Dr. Left thought, was why you don’t anger the princess. He looks at Link’s eyes with the otoscope as the kid starts to talk. “I… I feel like I’m on a tightrope. I’m like always a step away from snapping or crying. I remember not being like that. It’s almost… I… ugh… words are hard; I can’t decide on them. Or anything, really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surprising no one, it seemed like Miss Dot was right. Now it’s just a question of how bad it is. “Your eyes are fine. Your ears too.” Dr. Left places down his supplies. “Now Link, I’d love to talk to you in private-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s staying.” Dr. Left raises an eyebrow as Link’s grip tightens around Miss Dot’s wrist.. “I- she leaves and I leave too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m staying, Doctor,” Dot demands, and Dr. Left nods in agreement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok. This is pretty heavy. You almost certainly have a form of depression.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No fucking shit,” Dot murmurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m now debating if I should medicate you. How long have these symptoms been occurring?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… since…” Link looks at Dot, who looks at Dr.Left intensely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s getting medication. It’s serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dottie-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show him, please, Link. You need help and he can do it. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link shrinks a bit before pulling his shirt up to reveal some bad burn scars. Like someone held a flame to the same part of his torso multiple times-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. “So I’m going to be prescribing you some antidepressants,some medicine to make sure those burns are healed completely, and assigning you a therapist for the foreseeable future.” Dr. Left starts to rifle through his medicine supplies. “This is a month’s worth. Take it nightly, it will take 2 weeks to start working, come back for more when you’re out and if it’s not working we’ll try something else. Miss Dot, I assume you’ll make sure-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh he’s gonna be your best patient,” Dot winked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Well, that’s all I need from you all. Here’s the papers describing the medication and the information for the therapy, Dot, you can't go to that, therapist’s rules, but you can wait outside if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Dot pouts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Link?” His patient looks up. “My goal is to make you feel like you did before this started. Don’t be afraid to talk to me if you need anything else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link’s eyes widened, and they were full of color. “...Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Who would I be if I didn’t care?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link looked down, still clutching Dot. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Pita’s packing up the bakery when Link walks in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Link, darling, wonderful to see you! What are you up to at this hour?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing much, Pita. How are you and Wheaton?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re doing well! Just finished up the extension,” she bubbled, pointing to the new curtained doorway to the kitchen, already doused in flower. “It’s freed up the front so much, we’re gonna be able to expand into a cafe!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes! Wheaty’s been practicing his cooking skills just for the occasion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sure have!” cheered Wheaton as he emerged from the back, carrying cleaning supplies. “Well hello, Link! Long time no see. How’s your grandfather?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s doing well,” Link smiled. “He’s still fit enough to come help me in the forge once a week. We make lunch normally, but now that you’re opening up…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re gonna love it! We’ve got soups planned, sandwiches, wraps, all that typa lunch stuff!” Wheaton beamed, starting to clean the countertops.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And don’t think we’ll be skimping on the treats!” Pita joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you guys stopped selling your baked goods, I think I’d be forced to boycott, no matter how good the soup was,” Link said, serious for about a second before breaking into a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sense of humor’s back, Pita smiles. “Now, Link, seriously, have you been doing well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I'm, um, I’m doing better Pita. It’s hard sometimes, you know, cause I’m, well, it’s, oh um…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take your time deary, you don’t have to tell me if you don't want to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “No, I want to, it’s just… a lot, you know?” Pita doesn’t, but she nods. “...I’m seeing people more often thanks to the shop, and Dot stops by daily still to gossip.” He leans in and beckons Pita closer. “She keeps asking if I’ve seen Malon around since the castle’s milk delivery is always during one of her meetings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh, is that young love I see in the air?” Pita whispers with delight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I finally got her off the princess from like realms away that Vaati kidnapped when she was fifteen and she repays me by getting a new crush. It’s ridiculous!” Link throws his arms in the air in mock indignation, causing Pita to giggle. “Give a guy a break, I can only hear so many rambles about how cool someone is a day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I was young, I sent secret love letters to Wheaty, and he didn’t guess who it was for two years,” Pita grins mischievously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew,” Wheaton objected, “I just didn’t confront ya about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prove it then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, dumpling, you know I can’t prove that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He totally didn’t know,” Pita winks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link giggled. “Sadly, I suggested secret letters, but Dot wouldn’t take. She won’t do anything about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, young love,” Pita shook her head, “how much smoother you’d be if you’d just have the guts to say something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate to break up the party,” Wheaton interrupted, “but we’re closing up and I’d like to not do this completely alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Actually, I came to ask a question,” Link remembered, tucking into himself slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pita nodded. “Go right on ahead, deary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… um. I… Idon’twannaworkhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pita eyed him in confusion. “Is that what you meant to say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, no, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Big breath in, big breath out, Link.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lin breathed. “Ok. I wanna work here, if there’s an opening?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well this is a new development,” Pita observed. “Why so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I’ve always baked for Dot’s birthday, and recently, I’ve been feeling better, and I need to be more active, my therapist says, so I thought maybe I could get better at baking? I have the arms for kneading overnight or early in the morning if you want. But if not it’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pita cocked her head, but Wheaton answered first. “We actually haven't talked about if we’re gonna hire anyone-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we have the time to talk about it now!” Pita smiled. “Come on, sweetest, let’s go in back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pita dragged her husband into the backroom and whispered, “We're hiring this boy and I don’t care what you say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dumpling, I know he’s a great kid, but he hardly knows how to bake-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That can be taught easily. We’ll start him on bread, he’s got the arms for it and is willing to come in early to start it. It frees up time for you to cook.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wheaton gave her one of his looks, the one that said he knew she had another motive. “Pita…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wheaton, have you seen how much he’s improved? He’s been down on himself constantly since the festival six years ago, to the point where he hardly spoke, and now he’s up and about and playful. If he wants to bake and think it will help him, we’re getting this kid a whisk and a custom apron, end of story.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wheaton thought it over, slow, methodical, thorough. “...We could use someone doing the kneading.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you sweetest!” Pita beamed, pulling him into a hug before practically sprinting out to the front. “Link, you start work whenever you wanna.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link lit up like a lantern in the night. “Really? Thank you so much-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Inky, there you are!” Dot exclaimed, bursting into the store. “Hi Mrs. and Mr. Anadama!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful to see you, Dot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Inky, we gotta go, we said we’d be and Grandpapa’s at five-thirty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh crud, I was in here a while. Thank you so much, Pita and Wheaton!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing, deary! Have a nice dinner!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And when you come to work, come in at 6, ok?” Wheaton called.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, sir! I’ll see you soon! Thank you!” Link called back as the duo left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure how I like being called sir,” Wheaton muttered while Pita sighed. They were good kids, truly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder when they’re gonna start dating?” Wheaton voiced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pita gave him a flat look. “Sweetie, I love you, but sometimes I swear you’ve got the same amount of brain cells as the bread.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It was today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot had done so much research, free time spent in the libraries, discussing her plans with historians, traveling to visit fairies and mages, getting Link to let her talk with the Minish Elders. It all culminated today. It had to work today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stephanie, eyes glimmering red, walked up to her. “Hey, Z- Princess, are you ok? You’re shaking.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Are you cold?” Desiree asked, her purple dress swaying.</span><span><br/></span> <span>“I’m fine, I think I’m just excited and nervous. I want this to work.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been working on this for a long time,” Stephanie nodded. “It’s going to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All the maidens are here!” Ingrid, the blue maiden, called.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot took a deep breath. “Then let's get started.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot was nineteen, but she’d been really, truly watching the world turn for eight years, ever since she’d been turned to stone and forced to. She’d seen the pure magic the Great Fairies bore, observed the spiritual powers of the six Maidens, witnessed the artificed works of the Minish mages and used one to harness her own magic and erase monsters from the realm. Dot wasn’t a master of magic, but she knew the most, and she bore her knowledge like a needle to delicately build whatever she wanted</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She signals to start the spell of her own creation. She’s worked to see how they combine together, how to best weave the various magics into one quilt. She guides it all together, sewing the Fairy magic with the Maiden’s magic with Minish magic as thread, filling it with the ambient magic present in the world around her, and when it's combined, she finds the darkness imprisoned in the grotto where they work and wraps it up tight and ties it off with a bow made of herself, of her own magic, the light force, closing the evil off as long as she lasts, and when it’s finally done its betrayed by the clattering of the only magic she left out of the spell on purpose falling to the ground, its sealing use obsolete.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot almost collapses along with it, but she’s caught by Chrysanthemum, which she only realizes due to the bright green hair in her face. “It worked, Princess,” Chrys congratulated, “It must have!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot tries to pull herself up, and manages it with the help of the maiden by her size.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll say the obligatory ‘you should rest’ before you run off,” Steph jokes, stretching her arms. Surveying the sanctuary, Dot sees how tired everyone is, bags under their eyes, yawns decorating their faces. They started around noon, what time is it now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s late, princess,” Evi pipes up, shining yellow in the sunset, “so I wrapped it up for you.” She holds out a package wrapped in plain striped paper. “I figured you’d be off as soon as you could once we finished.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is sunset, Dot realizes. She’s late. “Thanks Evi! Thank you all. This means so much-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We know, we know!” Desiree laughs. “Just go give it to him already!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like that Dot’s off, clutching the gift in her hands, her footsteps from the Four Sword Sanctuary to Link’s house memorized. She bursts in the door, scaring poor Link off the chair he’s resting on. “Inky… happy… </span>
  <em>
    <span>wheeze</span>
  </em>
  <span>… birthday….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dot, by the Goddesses, are you ok?” Link gasps, rushing to get her into a seat. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. What’s going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Open it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks, taking the package and ripping away the 4-tones paper with a small laugh. He freezes when he sees what’s inside. “Is Vaati-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wrapped him up in the magic of the world and tied it off with my own soul. He’s stuck until I die. It’s yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link stares at her in shock, the wrapping paper dropping to the floor and the Four Sword takes its rightful place in his grip yet again. “Why-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured out the voices. It’s the sword. It’s been getting stronger. At this point, seven years after you made it, it should let you split on command and smooth out whatever’s happening in your head. By the time the seal I make breaks, it’ll be strong enough to keep Vaati in forever. We don't have to worry about him anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link went slack. “...You did that for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re my best friend, of course I di-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link enveloped her in a hug. Dot hugged him right back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Though this doesn’t replace your meds or your therapy, you’re still gonna do those and if you stop I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> find out-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link laughed, hard enough to lose his balance and grasp onto Dot as she also tried desperately to keep them from falling off the chair and onto the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dot knew it wasn’t the perfect solution. She’d tied the whole thing together; when she died, her thread died with it and the sword would be needed again. But Link had bared his soul to create a cursed blade to save his best friend. What was she to do but attempt to bend a curse with sheer force of will? She didn’t care if it wasn’t perfect, because she was Dot, wreathed in stone, and he was Link, shattered in four, and with a little bit of help they could do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Accessibility Update: Scenes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hey, so I was rereading comments on this the other day bc I was having a bad day and noticed that some ppl requested the Four POV scenes have the inner monologue split up for easier reading and I was like "yeah they're right" so welcome to the accessibility update of Murmurs! Thanks for pointing this out to me yall sorry I'm like 6 months late on reading it</p>
<p>So this will have all of the squished parts of Four's POV with the colors text written [[like this]] instead of italics and together, then the end of part 2 will just not be italicized, just know its internal. Hopefully this makes those parts easier to read!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Section 3, Four's POV part 1</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Link enters the Elemental Sanctuary and prays, <b>prays</b> , that this fixes him.</p>
<p>It’s been a nightmare. His only friend [[poor Dottie I miss her It’s my fault]] was stone. The people in town were scared. He was [[tired ready scared]] so close now to being done. He had everything, from powerful dungeon items [[I like the lamp the cane is the best the jar has so many uses]] to the elements he was searching for. He has the final one. It gleams a brilliant, shining [[red purple blue]] green, round and smooth like the [[water fire earth]] wind. It’s the final upgrade before his sword will gain the power of the legends and will let him save Dot.</p>
<p>The other three elements [[teardrops pointed round]] remain on their pedestals from the previous times he’s been here. There’s (somehow) no doubt in his mind as he steps back up to the pedestal for the final time. This <b>will </b>save Dot. There’s nothing [[obviously of course certainly]] that will stop him from saving her. Not Vaati’s monsters, not the maze-like dungeons, not even the-</p>
<p>[[Hurry up I have to do this sheath the sword and get it over with.]] It never stops. These… is it his thoughts? His inner monologue? [[maybe it didn’t happen before the sword what else could it be.]] He’s stopped caring. He can’t think, every time he tries [[I interrupt I speak this happens]] and it’s so much, it's almost too much, the murmurs running through his head never stop and he can hardly speak and he just wanted to save Dot [[why is this happening to me?]]</p>
<p>Link pushes the voices aside again [[I can’t I’d stop if I could can I shut up please I’m begging]] and draws his sword, now a cool blue [[the best color]] changed from its previous red [[I liked the red version better]] since the elements changed its appearance [[it could still be improved]]. He has to focus on the present, on what's around [[blue walls raised floor four statues]] him, ground himself here so the [[thoughts words murmurs]] don’t bleed into his actions. That’s how the town knows. Mr. Stockwell only started giving him bananas until after the murmurs started [[I still have it I don’t like bananas what no I love bananas]]. He’s not [[ready strong enough okay]] stupid. They know something is wrong, though they probably think it’s just stress and not [[voices thoughts I don’t even know what this is really]]. Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s walking a tightrope, hanging on by just a single string in the form of Dot, and he’s going to save her [[no matter how much it takes away from me]].</p>
<p>Link slams the sword into the pedestal. The wind element flew to its place on the final column. The elements started to glow, and shot beams of light into the sword. When it stopped, the sword continued to glow. Link took a deep breath in, [[this is for Dot]], and drew it. </p>
<p>The light of the completed Four Sword flows through him, and for a moment, everything is pain, everything is white. Link thinks he screams. Then everything stops. The room clears. It’s silent. <b>Yes</b> . For a moment, it’s truly, <b>blissfully </b>silent.</p>
<p>And then the murmurs start again. And it’s so, <b>so </b>much worse.</p>
<p>[[Did it stop it’s quiet maybe I can sleep again wait what’s happening where am I no can I be quiet? no not again I don’t like this it’s worse it’s so much worse now I hate this this isn’t good make it stop please shut up I thought I was free I can’t stop by the goddesses why can’t I stop I want to stop shut up I can’t take it. is this how it ends I don’t want to do this anymore Dottie’s waiting I have to is this how it stays forever? I don’t want that We don’t want that He doesn’t want that They really don’t want that so please someone fix us me him them already!]]</p>
<p>They thinks it’s so much worse than before. Link don’t know what to do. He [[no they us we me our what is right I don’t know anymore]] wants them to shut up. Or is it [[he]] wants [[me]]? [[I]] want [[me]]? [[They]] want [[you]]? [[What is going on]]? Link must haves [[no do we I must I want one]] a sense of self; it’s now [[fading shifting changing moving]] but it’s still [[mine theirs ours yours his]], isn’t it? It can’t take them from us, can it? Is it? How do [[we I us]] talk now, with words [[bubbling blowing burning being buried]] every time [[his our my their]] mouth opens? He have to figure it out, and soon, the world’s in trouble [[we have to save Dot I’m not leaving her for any longer this is all he cares about that’s their goal after all]], but these voices in [[our]] head [[can’t won’t mustn’t begs to]] stop and it’s all he can do to stay upright with them [[jabbering talking thinking existing]] in their brain and he wants it to stop [[they’re we’re he’s I’m]] begging, please-</p>
<p>“Link? Link, squirt, can you hear me?”</p>
<p>Link hear him and lose [[their]] balance, stumbling around and swinging [[our]] sword in the process. A spinning circle of light [[pretty that’s different I like it wonder what it does]] flies from [[my]] blade and hits the stone placard which dissipates before [[his my their our]] very eyes.</p>
<p>“Hmm-hmm… It seems that forging the sacred blade somehow opened the doorway!” Link [[well duh we figured that out I think it was the light circle Elzo they get it]] nods. “It must lead to the room that holds the secret of the light force! Link,” [[that’s me that’s him that’s them that’s us]], “we must go inside!”</p>
<p>Link go [[no that’s wrong right is it no it’s]] goes into the room. The next few minutes are a blur. There’s stained glass [[ooh colorful that looks like us it sure does is that Dottie]] that shows the legends [[we know those has he seen this before this is new why’s Dot there this time]] and the light force is [[wait no this is bad why didn’t it help her she’s in so much more danger now]] hidden in Dot. The king’s here now [[that’s not the King he’s possessed or is he stone whatever who is this]], it’s not him it’s Vaati [[I knew it we have to stop him he’s doing something his cape is very cool though]] and he [[no me no us no them]] can’t [[hurry up we have to go he’s attacking go left right jump back]] <b>move</b> -</p>
<p>Elzo wakes Link up. “Link, wake up! Can’t you wake up, Link?” He don’t wanna. They’s so [[tired exhausted worn out done]]; his thoughts are [[splintered fragmented shattered broken]]; their head hurts like he got hit by [[Gleeok Mazaal Big Octo Gyorg]]. Ezlo’s talking [[shut up pay attention this is important it’s about Dottie]] and Link pulls himself back into the conversation just in time to hear, “If he succeeds, we may never be able to return the Princess to normal!” Link gasps [[I will never let that happen!]]. Ezlo continues. “We’ve wasted too much time, Link,” [[he’s right]], “we must stop Vaati!”</p>
<p><br/>Ezlo always gets straight to the point, and he’s right, Link has to [[save the kingdom stop the monsters defeat Vaati rescue Dottie]] do this. So in a show of fake strength that will last as long as it needs to, Link [[sobs internally pushes himself too far desperately keeps trying accepts that his is how his life will be]] stands up straight and walks forward.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <strong>Scene 9, Four's POV part 2</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Link swings the hammer down to form the [[sword scythe spear scimitar]] blade no, no, he’d decided on a scimitar, self, not the other three things [[they suck hard to use bad range stop being so whiny]] well, it wasn’t for him, it was for the store as he worked to become a master [[no one will buy it yes they will can we stop I hate this]] he hated this god damn fucking much!</p>
<p>He’s [[well technically they us we no we said we’re stopping that]] learned his first swear from Dot about [[exactly yeah it was quick]] five seconds after he [[defeated destroyed annihilated decimated]] Vaati and she’d said, “Thank <b>fuck</b> you’re here, he wanted to marry me! That’s gross, I’m not getting married to a demon guy. And- are you four people?”</p>
<p>[[That last part’s not related to the swears but it’s important to us I didn’t want to think about us though it’s not like we can escape again]]. Link sighed, sticking the blade back in the fire [[yes fire NO fire it’s fine if we’re careful we’ll be careful]]. He hadn’t been expecting another journey [[yeah no kidding neither was I Vaati coming back shocked everyone]], never mind the splitting [[magic items get stronger the longer they exist it seems but that was only three years how strong will it get]] and opinions on it were [[it was nice I’m still angry about it it’s worrying I hope it doesn’t happen again]] mixed . He pulls the scimitar back out [[it’s not one yet it will be we’re working on it stop it]] and starts to hit it again with a <b>bang</b> . </p>
<p>On one hand, he had an explanation for [[us yeah sorry I’m sorry we didn’t ask to be like this]] the voices and both he and Dot knew what exactly was <b>bang</b> going on [[gosh she’s the best she tried so hard to help when no one really knew how to including us]]. Plus, if he tried, he could tell them apart [[now that we know we aren’t completely insane]] Vio [[we’re probably still insane]] Blue [[that’s not always a bad thing]] Red [[as long as it doesn’t stop us]] Green <b>bang</b>. Helped convince him he was fine.</p>
<p>[[Who are you kidding we were fine when the sword was drawn we were fine before the sword was made I’m not sure we’ll be fine again]] the thoughts racing through his mind constantly were right. It was worse, he <b>bang</b> [[they stop we have to stop]] thou-knew it was worse. He split and was free for just a second and then they were forced <b>bang</b> right back to this [[I mean we knew I didn’t it’s obvious if you think about it oh is it yeah it is stop arguing]] and it was at the same time required and so, so heartbreaking. He couldn’t decide <b>bang</b> on the worst part: [[the lost taste of freedom]] they could do things and not be bogged down by pure hopelessness and that was <b>bang</b> gone [[being reminded of silence]] they’d loved how empty his head had been, how free they were in comparison to now [[the difficulty doing things]] he <b>bang</b> missed being able to form words, sentences out loud [[the way people look at us]] they don’t wanna be pitied anymore. Yeah, he couldn’t decide <b>bang </b>[[they couldn’t decide on anything anymore]], each problem really came down to how close he was to normal before being yanked back to this. The <b>bang</b> literal only progress he’d made was matching noun and verb number [[that’s it it’s kinda sad not kinda definitely]], and it had taken them three years.</p>
<p>His <b>bang</b> hands were starting to shake [[just keep hammering it’ll stop that’s stupid we need a break and the room was hot [[well duh it’s a forge we should be used to it this is odd]]. Link just kept hammering, pushing the blade into <b>bang </b>shape [[curved I still think it’s stupid it doesn’t matter stop arguing my head hurts]]. They have to keep going [[we’re sweating a lot]] it wasn’t a choice. Vaati had broken free once [[my heart’s pounding]] tried to <b>bang</b> take over the world twice [[keep breathing]] when the third time happens it’s on him, and [[if when]] it happened [[he they us no stop it stop it now]] couldn’t <b>bang</b> let anyone else draw that sword. It was [[theirs his ours no no no]] it was their curse to bear, he [[I’m hot I’m cold]] sacrificed their soul <b>bang</b> to make it [[our chest hurts we need to breath]] and he wouldn’t give that up but he couldn’t let someone else get [[splintered shattered separated what are we now anyways we’re one right just four takes on one person but we’re so so different we can’t be completely separate people we all came from the same soul every decision one of us makes is one we could have made before all this we just can make more now that’s no good if we make four decisions what do we really decide um well I’m not sure exactly we don’t fucking know]]-</p>
<p>With a <b>buchang, </b>the hammer slips out of his hand as it swings downward and slams the half-formed scimitar off center. It skews to the side, slipping off the anvil and flying towards the dirty dirty floor and [[no not my scimitar it’s gonna be ruined catch it wait NO]] he drops the hammer and reaches towards the falling glowing blade. His hands, sheathed in gloves, are sweating, shaking, and as he steps forward with one leg to grab it the glove itself slips and drops with the blade straight onto his leg, now exposed past the curve of his apron with the step forward, and everything is pain for just a second.</p>
<p>”OUCH!”</p>
<p>”Motherfucking oh my goddesses we’re so fucking stupid-”</p>
<p>”The blade’s ruined, we're gonna have to melt it down to get the dirt out.”</p>
<p>”Why did we try to catch the GLOWING metal, that’s blacksmith rule number one!”</p>
<p>”Hey guys? Hold on a second. Everyone stop.”</p>
<p>And Link stopped. It was silent, and it was glorious. He basked in it, the peaceful silence of just being, something he’d missed desperately for years now, something he had gotten a hint of a year ago and had stolen away again. He was there for ages.</p>
<p>”We’re gonna have to treat this burn.”</p>
<p>”I think it’s the pain that cleared our minds.”</p>
<p>”...I don’t wanna go back.”</p>
<p>A moment of silence.</p>
<p>“...We could-”</p>
<p>”No. We’re not doing that.”</p>
<p>”This is the closest to normal we’ve been while in one body.”</p>
<p>”We could <b>die </b>, burns aren't safe easy wounds to deal with. One infection and-”</p>
<p>”We don’t have to go too far, and if we take care of them…”</p>
<p>“This is the coward’s way out-”</p>
<p>“No it’s not! We aren’t cowards!”</p>
<p>”Listen, if we use just one small flame, near our torso where no one will notice-”</p>
<p>”It’s certainly doable, and I trust you to keep us healthy while we do it. I know you’ve been reading those medical books, worrywart.”</p>
<p>Another moment of silence.</p>
<p>”...We’re more desperate than we realized, huh.”</p>
<p>”Did you ever think we weren’t?”</p>
<p>”It wasn’t phrased as a question.”</p>
<p>”I wanna be able to think straight and talk and laugh again. I’m in."</p>
<p>”I still say no. Dot would hate it.”</p>
<p>”But if we could actually speak to her again? I’d give anything to improve from how we are now, to be able to talk to her fully and completely again.”</p>
<p>“She’d never agree to us hurting ourselves for her sake.”</p>
<p>“...We keep it a secret, and I’m in too.”</p>
<p>”As am I.”</p>
<p>“We treat it correctly, only do it when we really need it. This is dangerous shit and you all know it.”</p>
<p>”Is that a yes?"</p>
<p>The pain in his leg continues to throb, it has to be treated soon, he knows, but his head is silent, he can think, finally, and that’s really what decides it.</p>
<p>”...I’m outvoted,” the final part of his brain justified. ” So yes. Let’s do it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>rip in pieces to all the typos i made and didn't catch in the squished section :(((((</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me, a week and a half ago: what if I wrote a 16 scene Four Weeks of Four fic?</p><p>I'm happy with how this came out, actually! I love Four he's great, I promise. Also I wrote Shadow once and now I love him.</p><p>Thanks to everyone on the LU discord server I love you all!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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